


Three Graces

by Purna



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Originally Posted on LiveJournal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-27
Updated: 2006-02-27
Packaged: 2018-12-04 10:13:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11553054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purna/pseuds/Purna
Summary: A sentient Ancient ship takes a liking to Rodney.





	Three Graces

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to lamardeuse for a fast beta. Thanks also to fenris_wolf0, imkalena, and 20thcenturyvole, who all said they wouldn't mind more of this.

"Mine, mine, all mine."   
  
Distracted from the control circuitry he was mapping, Radek frowned at Rodney. "Ours, ours, all ours," he corrected.   
  
He looked around the room they'd dubbed the bridge, a grin bubbling up once more in spite of Rodney's annoying possessiveness. "It is beautiful, is it not? _Our_ beautiful Ancient ship. Ours. Do not forget, it was Colonel Sheppard who acquired the subsea mapping data. You merely noticed the anomaly." Pushing his glasses up from where they'd slipped down his nose, Radek couldn't help sounding a little smug. "And it was I who interpreted the readings."   
  
McKay waved a dismissive hand, not looking up from his laptop. "You made a wild and unsubstantiated hypothesis borne out by my own careful and painstaking research. One day you may achieve the scientific maturity I embody, but not yet, grasshopper."  
  
Radek's response to that would have gotten his ears boxed when he was a boy.   
  
"I'll assume that was Czech for 'Rodney, you have god-like intellectual prowess.'"  
  
"Assume as you like, Dr. McKay. Your initial search algorithms obviously staggered under the weight of such misguided assumptions."  
  
Rodney shot him a look, eyes narrowed. "If we're discussing misguided assumptions, let's talk about that _Letters_ article you co-authored with Sobinski."  
  
Radek frowned and lifted the sensor probe from the panel. Normally, he enjoyed the verbal sparring with Rodney, but that was hitting a little low. "Yes, Rodney, mock the work I did before I had a security clearance. Not everyone has worked since the cradle for top secret US government program." He was going to add something rather spiteful about Rodney sinking so low as to work for Russians when he was interrupted.  
  
"Easy there, Dr. Zelenka. Rodney, quit provoking the nice man," Lieutenant Cadman said as she entered the bridge. Her voice took on a teasing tone as she continued, "So did we find the Ancient Love Boat? Pina coladas on the Lido deck?"  
  
Rodney cut her off. "Hardly. I'd compare it to an aircraft carrier." His mouth quirked, and he made a vague gesture above their heads. "Although more of a submarine right now, at least until we manage to raise her out of the thousand meter water column above us. According to Dr. Halsey's translations, she was specifically designed to fight the Wraith, a prototype, cutting edge even for the Ancients. She's so far beyond anything we saw on the _Aurora_ , it's like, like comparing..."  
  
"The USS Nimitz to a World War II ship?" Radek offered.  
  
"I was going to say apples to oranges, but that'll do. What do you know about US Navy ships, anyway?"  
  
Radek smiled. "Classified."  
  
Cadman cleared her throat noisily, interrupting Rodney's glare. She stood taller, spine straight, in a posture Radek would forever associate with soldiers reporting in. "She's pretty big, but we've managed to clear the area. Dr. Kipketer found something a few decks below us and refused to budge. I left Sergeant Terranova with her."   
  
"She must have found the drone-fighters," Rodney said. "Yes!" he said, pumping a fist into the air.  
  
At Cadman's confused look, Radek explained, "Small unmanned ships. A great deal more complex than the small drones we found in Antarctica. The Ancients' version of a fighter jet, we think." Tapping a fingertip against his bottom lip, Radek said, "We've got environmental up and running. Some computing power. Navigation, I estimate a few more days."  
  
Rodney was nodding. "Same here for the drone system. Once the hyperdrive is restored..."  
  
"Weapons? How long for weapons?" Lieutenant Cadman asked hopefully, ignoring the irritated shooing gesture Rodney was making in her direction.  
  
"We may need the Colonel's help with some of this," Radek said with a sigh.   
  
Rodney grimaced. "Unfortunately, he's making nice on the beautiful planet of the Amazon women."  
  
"The name of the planet is Cletia," Cadman said with a reproving frown. "And mock all you want. They've managed to survive the Wraith, technology and society mostly intact, for who knows how long, and it'd be nice to know how. Do matriarchal societies bother you, Rodney?"  
  
"On the contrary, they feature in all my hottest fantasies," he snapped. "I don't like--" Rodney swallowed. "I don't like it when the team's off world without me, okay?"   
  
Radek felt his eyebrows rise as he realized that Rodney was more than a little worried and decided to forgive the worst of Rodney's irritability. He knew it was the fact that he usually did just that--forgive Rodney's worst sins--that allowed them to work so well together.   
  
He had asked Dr. Heightmeyer about it, after being called a--what was the word Kavanagh had used? _Doormat_ , that was it. McKay's doormat, Kavanagh had said. He did not want to be anyone's doormat, but Dr. Heightmeyer had said he was merely a pragmatist, who had a wealth of patience and a permanently even keel. He had certainly stood up for himself during the Project Arcturus incident, she reminded him, and then they'd had to spend the rest of the hour talking about trust, guilt, betrayal, and the enormous responsibility of dealing with Ancient science.  
  
 _Rodney was wrong then_ , he thought. _Would you have rather helped him destroy a solar system?_ But he did not feel entirely blameless in that either. An irrational guilt lingered, in defiance of Dr. Heightmeyer's soothing platitudes. That memory and the lost look in Rodney's eyes moved Radek to say, "Your team will be fine, Rodney. There is only talking to be done on Amazon planet, not fighting."  
  
Rodney shook his head. Ignoring Radek's weak reassurance, he said, "I honestly don't think we'll require Colonel Sheppard's super-powered gene to get this baby running. I just think it'll be easier once we have more systems online."   
  
That was easier said than done. The technology was even more advanced than much of Atlantis, and Radek found himself struggling to understand it. Rodney didn't seem to be doing much better, and Dr. Kipketer radioed in a terse report regarding her lack of progress as well.   
  
Hours later, Cadman had already turned in, leaving the taciturn Sergeant Devereaux on watch. The fourth time Radek caught himself nearly nodding off onto a panel of Ancient crystal circuitry, he threw his hands up in disgust. "I must sleep, Rodney. Perhaps my brain will work better later."  
  
Radek went over to the open section of deck where they'd left their gear. He was already bundled into his sleeping bag and was drifting off when he heard Rodney grunt in agreement and stumble over to his own sleeping bag.  
  
*  
  
The next morning, Radek glanced up from the panel he was working on and paused. Rodney looked terrible, pale, with dark bruises underneath his eyes. "Did you sleep at all, Rodney?"  
  
Rodney started. "What?" He shook his head. "Not well. Dreams, mostly. Very weird dreams." He seemed lost in thought for a long moment. "And you? Have you been dreaming?" he asked, his voice tight.  
  
Radek shrugged. "Slept like log. No dreams."   
  
That was a lie, but it didn't sound as though his dreams had been at all like Rodney's. Radek's dreams had been pleasant. Very pleasant, if a little embarrassing, featuring a picnic and being fed grapes by someone who looked exactly like Dr. Weir. There was absolutely no way he'd be telling anyone, especially Rodney, about it.  
  
Rodney seemed off the rest of the day. Dr. Kipketer surfaced at some point, and Radek waited to hear Rodney's usual mockery of her second undergraduate degree, which was in French of all things. When Rodney only asked a few quiet, perfunctory questions regarding her progress, she left them with a startled, pleased look in her eye and a stack of MREs.   
  
The quiet was actually making Radek a little jumpy. When they broke for dinner, Rodney didn't even protest when Cadman tossed him the pressed chicken filet MRE, the one he always said tasted like dog food.  
  
Cadman was down to the Skittles in her MRE package, and Radek was peripherally aware that she was talking to him, so he made vague "hmm" noises now and then. He had mostly tuned her out, the brilliant patterns of Ancient circuitry occupying his thoughts when Cadman poked him.   
  
"Don't you think so, Dr. Zelenka?"   
  
Startled from where he'd been mentally re-routing the navigation system to accommodate a burned-out crystal, Radek jumped, slapping at her hand. "No poking, please. I am not your Carson, hands to yourself."  
  
Cadman rolled her eyes. "A ceremony, you know. To celebrate, once we get the ship running. We could christen it, with champagne and everything."  
  
" _Pulchra_." It was Rodney who had spoken, although he seemed to be talking more to the floor than to them.  
  
Radek and Cadman stared at him, Cadman looking as puzzled as he felt. "What was that?" Radek asked.  
  
"She has a name already. _Pulchra_ ," Rodney said dreamily, lifting his head so that Radek could see that his eyes were closed.  
  
Ignoring the hairs going up on the back of his neck, Radek scoffed, "Silly name, I think, Rodney. Everyone might suggest a name. We could vote on it."  
  
"Is that Latin?" Cadman asked, wrinkling her nose a little.  
  
Rodney opened his eyes. "Huh?" He hunched his shoulders a moment, as if to ward off a chill, but seemed to shake it off. "Just thinking aloud," he said quickly. "Radek's right; we can vote on it."   
  
Radek blinked at that, but before he could comment, Rodney stood and clapped his hands. "All right, enough loafing already. Radek, back to work, shall we?"  
  
*  
  
It took them two weeks, in the end, to get the ship mobile again. Two weeks where they all got twitchy and irritable with bad coffee, and camping on the hard deck, and the workload, which was fascinating but overwhelming in a way of that seemed _status quo_ in the Pegasus galaxy. Rodney seemed worst off of them all. The dark bruises under his eyes got worse, and Rodney thrashing in his sleep awakened Radek more than once.   
  
Rodney refused to talk about the dreams, and Radek hesitated to press him on it. The Pegasus galaxy had left its mark on them all, and Radek's own sleep was sometimes troubled. The ship would be invaluable against the Wraith; perhaps it was no surprise to see Rodney stressed by trying to get it flying once more.  
  
Rodney was correct in that they did not need Colonel Sheppard to get the ship up and running, which was convenient, since the Colonel and the rest of Rodney's team remained on Cletia, discussions having slowed to a crawl. Rodney complained about this incessantly. The complaints reassured Radek. Although Rodney had been the one to suggest that they did not require Sheppard's help in the first place, a complaining Rodney meant all was well with the universe.  
  
Rodney wanted to try to raise the ship as soon as possible. "Let's get her back to Atlantis; we can work on her there much more easily. You know I can fly her."   
  
The ship did respond to Rodney; they had all seen it. But the prudent thing to do, the plan Dr. Weir recommended, was to wait.   
  
"I agree with Dr. Weir," Radek said.   
  
"Of course you do, Radek." Rodney sounded snide, his eyebrows rising knowingly.  
  
Radek frowned at Rodney. "And what is that supposed to mean?"   
  
"If you think you're being subtle..." Rodney trailed off and shook his head. "Oh, never mind, this is just too easy. I'll save it for more worthy prey."  
  
Dr. Kipketer sighed, muttering something about her co-workers being worse than her nephews. "If you're done taunting Dr. Zelenka..."  
  
Rodney shrugged. "It's a gift. I am but a fragile vessel for the power of the mock. It's one of my many charms, don't you think?"  
  
Dr. Kipketer looked unimpressed, her mouth a tight line. "Done?"  
  
"For now."  
  
"So the plan is to wait?" she asked.   
  
"That's what the boss said. And Dr. Zelenka agrees with her, so of course that's our plan."  
  
The plan was to run tests, go slowly and cautiously, before trying to raise the ship. The plan did not take into account one thing: the ship itself.  
  
"Rodney, what are you doing? Dr. Weir said to wait." Radek was trying not to raise his voice, but the surge of fear and anger-- _he is doing it again, he thinks he's right and everyone else is wrong_ \--made that difficult. The faint shuddering movement of the ship had drawn Radek up from where he'd been helping Dr. Kipketer to the bridge, where it was obvious that they were moving, moving up through the water column at increasing speed.   
  
"We're nearly to the surface already." Dr. Kipketer sounded stunned, scanning the control panels, eyes wide in her dark, thin face.  
  
Rodney looked at him, hands raised defensively. "I was just _thinking_ about it. Raising her, I mean. The ship just...did it."   
  
"I'm serious," Rodney added, when Radek gave him an incredulous look.  
  
"He didn't touch anything, Dr. Z," Cadman offered. "I've been here the whole time."  
  
"Have you tried to stop it?" Radek asked Rodney.   
  
Rodney's hands fluttered in a frustrated motion. "No, Radek, I'm trying to get her to do the Kessel run; jeez, of course I tried, but there are no manual controls and frantically thinking _down, girl_ doesn't seem to help, and..."  
  
"Rodney."  
  
"...it's like she's made up her mind to go back to Atlantis..."  
  
"Rodney."  
  
"...and furthermore, I _said_ I agreed with the go-slow plan, and this whole trust issue..."  
  
"Rodney!" Radek grabbed Rodney's wrists, which finally stopped the flow of words. Radek looked carefully into Rodney's eyes and let go of his hands with a gentle shake. "I do trust you; I was merely asking."  
  
Rodney nodded, a jerky toss of his head, and crossed his arms across his chest.   
  
Radek sighed, rubbing his chin. Knowing that they had an audience nearly made him hold his tongue, but the question had to be asked. He asked carefully, "But Rodney, you said _she_ made up her mind? The ship? The ship is...is sentient?"   
  
Before Atlantis, the question would have seemed ludicrous to Radek, and even now he drew the last word out reluctantly, rather hoping that Rodney would deny it. But Rodney did not, was not shooting his suggestion down in a flurry of mockery.  
  
"I...I'm not sure." Rodney was looking at the deck. "Sort of? Maybe? Or else I'm going crazy."  
  
"Not inconceivable, but unlikely," Radek said dryly. Ignoring Rodney's eye roll, he continued, his voice thoughtful, "The dreams." He snapped his fingers. "Your strange dreams. They are coming from the ship?"   
  
Rodney swallowed, then nodded. "I think so."  
  
Cadman spoke, her voice a little breathless. "The ship told you her name, didn't she, Rodney? What was it you said..."  
  
" _Pulchra_ ," Rodney said, his voice so low the word was barely audible.  
  
"It means 'beauty' in Ancient," Dr. Kipketer said. Radek blinked at her and realized Cadman and Rodney had echoed his surprise. She bristled. "What? I like languages."  
  
"At least knowing Ancient is nominally more useful than knowing French," Rodney said. "I still say liberal arts degrees aren't worth the paper they're written on." Rodney's mockery was half-hearted, but at least he had recovered some of his composure.   
  
He looked at Radek. "This thing--the ship talking to me. It's gotta be--"  
  
"--the gene," they said in chorus, Radek nodding. "You are the only one here with the gene, and you alone have 'heard' the ship. I don't believe that this is a coincidence. We can test it further when we get to Atlantis. That is our destination, is it not?"  
  
Dr. Kipketer was staring at the control panel. "And we're here. We're on the pier with the cricket pitch."  
  
They had landed on one of the southwestern piers, in the large boring expanse of nothing that had been used for various sports, whenever the Atlantis personnel had the time and inclination. Radek had never paid much attention to it, since it lacked any sort of interesting Ancient technology.   
  
"I think the Sunday game is off," Cadman said.   
  
The tightly controlled voice of Dr. Weir came over Radek's headset. "Lieutenant Cadman, Major Lorne is coming in with his team to do a thorough sweep of that ship. If you and Dr. Kipketer wouldn't mind showing him around?"  
  
"Yes, m'am," Cadman said crisply.  
  
Dr. Weir continued, "Dr. McKay. Dr. Zelenka. Report to my office. Immediately. "  
  
Radek let out a soundless whistle and eyed Rodney, who sighed. "Let's get this over with."  
  
*  
  
They entered Dr. Weir's office like guilty schoolchildren, but Rodney's natural arrogance could not be suppressed for long.  
  
"You can't blame me for this, Elizabeth. It was the ship that decided to come back to Atlantis, not me. Notice, however, that my idea for a quick return panned out completely. We're here safe and sound, about to fix the ship that will very likely save Atlantis. Just in time to get scolded. Would you like to slap my hand as well?"  
  
Dr. Weir's eyebrow rose, and she crossed her arms across her chest. "Don't tempt me." After a beat, she said, "The _ship_ decided?"  
  
Radek closed his eyes briefly and started in on damage control. It was something he had gained much experience in since he'd started working with Rodney.   
  
He gave his part of the report, trading off sentences with Rodney. Radek finished by saying, "We did not deliberately disobey orders, Dr. Weir. The ship seems very, very sophisticated. I believe Rodney when he said it had ideas of its own."  
  
The corners of Rodney's mouth turned down. "Well, thanks so much for the external verification, Dr. Zelenka. I can't be believed without your say-so now, is that it?"  
  
Radek wished for the thousandth time that Rodney's inner child was not so frighteningly close to the surface.  
  
"Rodney, enough," Dr. Weir said. "I'm concerned about a number of things here. I'm disturbed by the fact that this ship seems to have a mind of its own, first of all. I also feel very uncomfortable with it 'talking' to you at all in the way it did. It seems a little...intrusive."  
  
Rodney dismissed that fear with a casual flap of his hand. "Now that I've thought about it, the ship may just have been set to return to Atlantis when it was powered up again."  
  
Radek started to say something, but Rodney quieted him a sharp look and continued. "We know what we're doing, Elizabeth. I promise we won't let her go all HAL on us, and it's not like she's invading my brain or something. Most importantly, we just can't afford to let this ship go. The Wraith are not going to stay away forever." Rodney's tone had turned solemn.  
  
"This ship could save Atlantis, Dr. Weir," Radek said quietly.  
  
She frowned. "You're right about that. When the Wraith come..." Her eyes held theirs for a long moment, and it seemed to Radek that they held as much desperation as determination. "We'll need every advantage. "   
  
"You can trust me. I learned my lesson after Doranda," Rodney said in a subdued voice.  
  
She sighed. "Okay. Just be careful. I'd also like you to check in with Dr. Beckett, Rodney. Every now and then, just to make sure this isn't damaging you in some way."  
  
Rodney looked pained. "Yes, mom."   
  
Lips twitching, she gave Rodney another raised eyebrow. "Keep me updated." It was a dismissal. Radek had turned towards the door when she spoke again.  
  
"Dr. Zelenka, could you stay a moment?"   
  
Radek nodded, ignoring the suspicious look shot his way as Rodney brushed past him heading for the door.  
  
Dr. Weir saw Rodney out and made sure the door was set for privacy. She didn't return to her desk, but remained standing, walking over to lean against the low console table that ran along one wall of the office.  
  
He moved closer and looked at her expectantly, but she seemed in no hurry to speak her mind. She had picked up a framed photograph from the table and was running a thumb back and forth across the glass.   
  
"Dr. Weir?"   
  
She looked up, her face thoughtful. "Dr. Zelenka, I have been remiss. I owe you an apology."  
  
Radek started. "Apology? Whatever for?"  
  
"We've...I've put you in a very difficult position. I have since we first arrived here."  
  
He must have looked as confused as he felt, because she continued. "In regards to Dr. McKay."  
  
The view through the window of her office suddenly had his full attention. "If this is about Arcturus..." he said stiffly.  
  
Dr. Weir held up a hand. "This isn't about blame. Rodney is a brilliant scientist, and he's done wonders for Atlantis."  
  
"Perhaps you should be speaking to Rodney then." His voice sounded a little tight.  
  
"Hear me out in this. He's brilliant, but he's also a wildcard. Dr. Zelenka, you are no less brilliant a scientist. And you work extremely well with Dr. McKay. You're the only one here who can keep up with him; the only one he'll listen to."  
  
"Not always," Radek murmured.   
  
"Often enough." She shook her head a little impatiently. "I've relied on you to keep him in check. He's technically your superior, so it hasn't been easy for you, I imagine."  
  
Radek's laugh sounded a little rueful. "No, it has not."  
  
"And I'm afraid I can't do much to make it any easier for you. I know it's not fair. I need you both; when you work together, the whole is greater than either of you alone. Atlantis needs you both."  
  
A lock of her hair had fallen forward across one cheek, and Radek found himself staring at it, staring at her face, which had changed since coming to Atlantis. Harder or thinner, perhaps, and he was very glad that the burden of commanding the city would never fall to him.   
  
"Dr. Weir, I do not mind. Please, do not worry on my account."  
  
His hand was reaching out to touch her before he'd thought about it. At the last moment, common sense caught up with him, and his hand diverted to the photograph she was holding.  
  
"May I?" he asked to cover his discomfort. She nodded.  
  
The photograph showed a smiling Dr. Weir in hiking gear, her arms around a man similarly dressed, a large white dog sitting at their feet.  
  
"You look very happy."  
  
She let out a sound that was more of a strangled cough than anything else. He glanced back up; her face was so tightly controlled it looked as if it might break.  
  
"No?" he asked in a cautious voice.  
  
Pointing at the photo, she said, "Simon. We were together...a long time. I asked him to send me a picture of our dog Sam. He sent me this one. I don't know if it was hopeful or cruel of him. I don't know why I've kept it."  
  
Radek fumbled for something to say. "Nice dog," he managed.  
  
A surprised laugh was her response. "Yes, she is." She cleared her throat. "So. You know about Simon. It's just tough, you know?" She pushed her hair away from her face, a nervous gesture. "To be with someone for so long. And then...no one. You're alone again."  
  
Radek took a breath, staring down at the picture he held. Elizabeth, alone and lonely. He knew that feeling all too well.   
  
"I was married once," he offered abruptly. He set the photograph down, put more care than necessary into placing it just right. "Elena. She died." Eight years, and he had never managed to say it any more gently.  
  
Dr. Weir looked shocked. "Oh. Oh, my goodness. I'm so sorry."  
  
"Long time ago now," he said, trying to sound reassuring. "She had the, hmm, _astma_ , you see? Same as in English, I think."  
  
She nodded. "Close enough. Asthma."   
  
"Not so bad, the asthma, or so we always thought. Until one day it was. But so." He shrugged, remembering how she had felt unwell all day that day but had ignored it. She had gone to sit in the garden, and he'd found her on the chaise. He had thought she was asleep at first.  
  
He'd always loved his work, but after that he'd thrown himself into it as never before, publishing like a madman. It was this work that had caught the attention of Dr. Carter, that had led to him joining the SG program.  
  
He cleared his throat. "I should go. We have much work to do on the ship."  
  
She straightened, smoothing her uniform jacket. "Yes. Thanks for hearing me out, Dr. Zelenka."  
  
Radek paused at the door, turning to look at her. "Goodbye, Dr. Weir."  
  
She looked up over at him and paused. "Good luck with the ship," she said. As he moved into the control room, it struck him that she'd been about to say something else. He was thinking about what that could be when Dr. Halsey swept him off for lunch, where she'd no doubt ask him questions regarding the ship until his food went cold.  
  
*  
  
Radek never had a lot of free time on Atlantis. Not that anyone ever did, and if Radek had found himself with hours or days when his job didn't entail life-or-death urgency, he'd likely spend them working in the lab anyway, so the point was moot.   
  
Sometimes, though, he wished things were different. Sometimes he wished he didn't have to rush off to the ship or the lab or the puddle jumper bay.  
  
After a snarling, frustrating tangle with Rodney over how to recalibrate _Pulchra_ 's hyperdrive, he'd headed for the mess with a futile goal of quiet and possibly some lunch. Instead, he found himself standing at the railing of a deserted balcony, the sun making him squint and the salt breeze tugging at his hair. He closed his eyes with a sigh and felt the knots in his neck and back loosen.   
  
He didn't turn around when he heard movement behind him; perhaps his indifference would send the message that he wanted to be alone. Radek kept his eyes closed, but he sensed that someone had moved forward to lean against the railing. He waited for the peace to be broken by some bland pleasantry, but the only sound was the slap of water and the breeze against his ears.  
  
He peered over to see Dr. Weir standing there, face turned to catch the sun. Her eyes were closed, and her lips were turned up in a small but genuine smile. He'd wanted to be alone, but he found himself not minding this interruption in the least.   
  
Eyes still closed, she let out a contented sound, and he wondered how often anyone ever saw her like this, the lines of tension eased, her guard down. That she felt comfortable enough to relax in his presence made him feel a little strange, made his chest feel tight.   
  
They stood there in companionable silence, and Radek let his eyelids drift shut again. He let his mind wander. The warmth and the faint vibration of the deck beneath them and Radek's own slowing pulse fed into the fanciful thought of the city as a living creature, that they inhabited a silent and drowsy beast.   
  
He had opened his mouth to share his silly musings with her when his radio chirped.  
  
It was Rodney. "Radek, what did you do, sit down to a four-course meal? Scarf down your wheaties and get the hell back here."  
  
Radek opened his eyes with a beleaguered sigh. "Five minutes, Rodney. Not everyone has your disturbing talent for inhaling food whole."  
  
"Chewing is vastly overrated. C'mon, Radek, I've got an idea I need to bounce off you."  
  
"On my way."  
  
Dr. Weir was giving him a sympathetic look. "I'm sure Rodney can wait a little longer, Radek. It's nice out here, isn't it?"  
  
"Yes, it is," he said with a smile that felt wistful. "But duty calls." His hand slid down the railing, but it stopped far short of where her hand rested. "Enjoy the sun, Elizabeth. You look tired."  
  
She looked at him for a long moment, the expression on her face hovering between pleased and surprised. "Thank you, Radek," she said slowly. She reached over to clasp her hand on his forearm. "I will." Her grasp tightened briefly, and then she let her hand drop.  
  
As Radek walked to the transporter, the salt smell and the feel of sun on his face lingered. He realized that for the first time in a long time, it was not the intricate workings of Ancient technology or Krasnikov equations that occupied his thoughts. Rather, it was the memory of a quiet moment in the sun, shared with Elizabeth Weir.  
  
*  
  
"And you don't 'hear' anything from her?" Rodney asked Beckett for the second time. They were on _Pulchra_ , testing Beckett's ability to control the ship.  
  
"No, Rodney, I don't. I don't hear a thing. I can barely turn the damn lights on." Beckett sounded annoyed. Radek couldn't really blame him; Beckett had been at their mercy for over two hours now. Beckett's gene might be a natural one, but it didn't seem to be eliciting much of a response from _Pulchra_.   
  
"It'll be interesting to see how it responds to Colonel Sheppard when he gets back," Radek mused. A grunt was Rodney's only response.  
  
Beckett sighed. "Now, gentlemen, I really do need to get back to the infirmary."  
  
"Fine, fine, fine," Rodney said, flapping his hands to shoo Beckett away. "Off with you. Back to the bedpans. You're strangely useless."  
  
As Beckett left, muttering to himself, Radek said, "Based on an admittedly small sample size, it appears that possession of the ATA gene alone is not sufficient. We've tested two people who received successful gene therapy, and Beckett makes the second natural carrier we've tested. The ship responds to you best. Maybe _Pulchra_ just likes you, Rodney. Mad as that sounds."  
  
There was no response to that, and when Radek looked over, Rodney was staring down at the console. "So," Rodney said and then went silent.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
Rodney looked over at him. "About the ship."  
  
"What about the ship?"  
  
"She--I think she feels guilty."  
  
"What?" Radek blinked. He and Rodney normally thought along similar lines, sometimes scarily similar, but Rodney was losing him here.  
  
He shot Rodney a look, and Rodney held up his hand. "Wait, just listen. I know I'm talking about a highly complex program here, not a person with feelings. I know that. But protecting the people of Atlantis was an integral part of her. She failed her programming, failed her people. It feels like guilt to me."  
  
"Guilt?" Radek cocked his head and frowned.   
  
"Believe me, Radek, I know what guilt feels like," Rodney snapped. "I get to feel it every day, especially after..." He turned away from Radek, an awkward twist of his body.  
  
"Rodney?" Radek was worried now and sounded it. "Are you okay?"  
  
Rodney swung around, looking a little wild-eyed. "No, I'm not okay! I am so far from okay. John's still on that damn planet; I've got the ship to deal with, both mechanical systems _and_ added mental distress; SGC bounced my letter to Griffin's family back to me for security reasons, and now--" Rodney was waving his finger more and more wildly with each point. "And now--you and Elizabeth are off conspiring or something."  
  
Radek felt his eyebrows climb up to his hairline. "Rodney, what--"  
  
Rodney cut him off. "I've waited for you to talk about it. I've been patient, I think, but you haven't said anything, and I just get these thoughts stuck in my head that won't get out. And I...I just have to know," Rodney said in a breathless spill of words.  
  
Radek blinked. "I have no idea what you're talking about."  
  
"Elizabeth. She pulled you aside to talk about me."  
  
Shaking his head, Radek said, "Rodney."  
  
Rodney ignored him. "She did it right in front of me. How subtle is that? I wonder what kind of message she was trying to send, that she doesn't trust me, and the only thing I can think is that she wants you to spy, to report on me..."  
  
"Stop talking now." It seized him out of nowhere, so suddenly the pounding in his ears took him almost by surprise, _hmmm, yes, I am quite angry now, how did that happen?_ "Stop talking or I will forget that I am your friend--as you have obviously forgotten, by the way-- and hit you over the head."   
  
Rodney stared at him for a long moment, his breathing harsh and shallow. He was silent as his breathing slowed, and then he covered his face with his hands. "I'm going insane, aren't I? Completely fucking insane."  
  
Radek had gone from angry to concerned so fast he felt a little shaky. "Rodney, have you gone to see Dr. Beckett? Or Dr. Heightmeyer?" He sounded tentative.  
  
"No time, Radek. No time, never enough time." Rodney's hands still covered his face.  
  
"Perhaps you should make time. I am worried about you right now."  
  
"I will, I will, just not today, okay?" Rodney finally uncovered his face to give Radek a pleading look. "Not today. We have to get _Pulchra_ up and running first. You know we do. Please, Radek."  
  
Radek sighed and nodded. Rodney stood motionless, head cocked. Then he nodded, a sharp jerk of his head, and bent over the console again. Radek looked over at Rodney for a long moment, and returned to typing on the laptop he'd plugged into the control system.  
  
After a long silence between them, Radek spoke again. "Elena," he said shortly. "I was talking to Elizabeth about Elena." It was only partially the truth, but the rest of their conversation was none of Rodney's concern. Radek felt oddly protective of it.  
  
"Oh. _Oh_ ," Rodney said, and spent the rest of the day shooting Radek speculative looks.  
  
*

  
Eat, work, sleep. It was a simple pattern, and Radek was content with it. Especially the non-work parts, since sometimes the Pegasus galaxy made those a scarce commodity.   
  
Lately the eating part had become particularly attractive, since Dr. Weir often seemed to pop up in time to join him. Their discussions ranged from the latest movies brought up by the _Daedalus_ \--too many action movies, in that they'd had enough of explosions and guns in real life to ever want to see another one on screen--to books they'd read and music they liked.   
  
"I don't like Philip Glass," she'd said, when Radek mentioned liking his music, but she was smiling at him as she said it. Their musical tastes were not entirely divergent: they both liked jazz, although she'd teased him for preferring Billie Holiday to Miles Davis.   
  
"How can you choose between them?" she'd asked. "Unless you've just got a weakness for a beautiful woman," she'd said, one brow raised playfully.  
  
He'd caught her eyes for a long moment before answering. "Perhaps so." He wasn't sure what she'd seen on his face then, but she'd looked away, color tingeing her cheeks.  
  
That blush was enough to make Radek's heart beat a little faster. He liked Elizabeth, liked her quite a lot. If he forced himself to be completely honest, he was probably starting to fall in love with her. It surprised him sometimes, to feel this again, and with someone so unlike Elena. Elena had been flighty and social, but quick-tempered. She'd had a sharp tongue when she was angry, but Radek had never minded. Sometimes Rodney's barbs actually made him feel a little nostalgic for Elena when she lost her temper, although he'd never told Rodney that.   
  
Elizabeth was cool and restrained, in contrast to Elena's fire. With Radek though, Elizabeth became looser, more relaxed. It always took her a while to shake off her professional mask; he found himself waiting impatiently for that first smile, that first flash of humor.   
  
She was in that relaxed mode now, smiling and telling a Ronon anecdote. "So he asks me about the significance of the running bird and the coyote in Earth culture, and I think he's been talking to the anthropologists again. I dredge up every myth I can think of, and bore the man to tears probably, and finally he asks, 'But what about this Acme Company?'"  
  
Radek chuckled. "Rodney tells me that Colonel Sheppard is quite generous with his _Road Runner_ DVDs. Actually, Rodney said he likes to inflict them on unsuspecting team members."  
  
"Somehow that doesn't surprise me," she said and laughed. Her gaze caught his, her eyes warm and affectionate.  
  
Radek liked Elizabeth's laugh, and he didn't get to hear it all that often. He hoarded her laughs like gold, replaying them every now and then. He liked the sound, liked the way her forehead crinkled.  
  
Radek liked to think that she laughed more with him than with anyone else, but he didn't know for sure. What he did know was that the thought of seeing her was enough to put a spring into his step when he headed to the mess. He also knew that when they were together at a table, people often avoided sitting with them, giving them space.   
  
He didn't know what to think about that. He treasured the moments with Elizabeth, but he sometimes wondered what people were thinking, if rumors were starting, or if they thought he was trying to curry favor.   
  
He shrugged it off in regards to himself; people would think what they wanted, and he liked being with her far too much to stop. She didn't seem to notice anything amiss, and she always seemed pleased to see him. He didn't quite have the nerve to ask Elizabeth outright what she thought, because his asking would bring her attention to it. And he had the strange fear that whatever it was they had between them might dissolve if they looked too closely at it.   
  
Deep in a control panel one day, half-listening to Rodney mutter to himself, he found himself thinking about her once more. He was testing circuits, trying to hunt down the disruption that continued to make _Pulchra_ 's hyperdrive inoperable. It was tedious work, something he could do in his sleep, and he could drift mentally without risking mistakes.  
  
So while his hands continued their work in the circuitry panel, his thoughts were elsewhere, on Elizabeth. Atlantis had been through a bad, bad day a few months back, when two separate offworld teams had gotten into trouble. And once again, Radek and Elizabeth were among those left behind on Atlantis, the ones who waited for the radio check-ins, the ones who worried when the teams were late.   
  
Major Lorne's team had reported in late and two men short, one of the botanists having disappeared, with Lorne tearing off to find him. Soon after, Teyla and Ronon dragged Sheppard and Rodney, both injured, back through the stargate, straight to the infirmary and surgery for Rodney.  
  
Radek and Elizabeth were keeping each other company in her office. They'd found that a lonely vigil of waiting became unbearable. Radek fidgeted in his chair, nervously smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles in his trousers over and over. He hated going off world, but he thought he might hate this horrible _waiting_ more.   
  
Elizabeth was quiet, stretched thin--debating sending a Marine detachment through to Lorne's team, worried that to do so might only heighten an already tense situation, all the while waiting to hear about Rodney from Beckett.  
  
The good news came all at once, Beckett reporting in, "Rodney's going to be fine," and Major Lorne's team plunging through the stargate, unscathed and grumbling about another world for the list of "people who negotiate with guns and/or long pointy knives." There really was a list, black marker on a whiteboard right outside the gym for inspiration. Radek didn't know who had started it, but now all the offworld teams kept it updated.   
  
Upon hearing the news, Elizabeth had taken in a deep raspy breath, bowing her head. She'd had tears in her eyes when she lifted her head, and she hadn't tried to hide them from Radek. Everything she felt was on display; he could see it in her eyes, the tension in her hands.   
  
"Radek, they're okay. Everyone's okay," she'd said, so many emotions--fear, relief, _love_ \--sliding across her face. He'd known that she felt deeply for the people of Atlantis, but he'd never seen it so raw, starkly on display. He'd felt something then for her. He'd found himself intensely moved by her strength, her caring. She was powerfully attractive.   
  
Later, when they'd visited Rodney and Sheppard in the infirmary, he'd quietly watched her. Her face held concern and caring, but the true depth of her emotion was now masked behind professionalism. Only Radek knew what she kept hidden behind the surface. It felt like she'd given him something in that moment, given him a little of herself. It was a gift he treasured.  
  
*  
  
"This is the coolest thing ever!" Rodney shouted as they took _Pulchra_ on her first test run just outside Atlantis' ionosphere. He gave the console an affectionate pat, his eyes unfocused as he concentrated on directing the ship.  
  
"Drone-fighters deployed," Dr. Kipketer said in a calm voice.  
  
Rodney grimaced. "C'mon, c'mon," he muttered, closing his eyes. Opening them finally, he said, "Okay, there." He was holding his breath, and then let it out in an exasperated puff. "Good thing I can multi-task. It's like having pieces of your brain darting all over the place."  
  
"Lovely image," Radek muttered and checked the screen, looking for the chunk of space debris they'd picked for their test. "Target destroyed. Nice job, Rodney."   
  
The rest of the test run went like clockwork, Rodney retrieving the drone-fighters and then taking the ship through a complicated series of maneuvers. Rodney hovered the ship in position for a long moment as they double-checked the readings. Then they looked at each other wordlessly, the corners of Rodney's mouth twitching and Dr. Kipketer stifling her laughter. It broke out finally, and they laughed, Dr. Kipketer covering her mouth with a coy hand, Rodney loud and smug. For Radek at least, it was a combination of triumph and relief, and the tingling satisfaction of a difficult project done well.   
  
They landed, all smiles and slapping backs, and then they ran into Dr. Weir on the pier with Major Lorne at her side. Neither was smiling; the look on Dr. Weir's face wiped away Radek's good mood in an instant. It was the look she always got when things were about to go to hell.  
  
The smile slid off Rodney's face. "What is it?"  
  
"Dr. Ruiz finally cracked those encrypted files regarding the _Pulchra_ project. Dr. Halsey's been translating the results." She hesitated.  
  
"And?" Rodney crossed his arms across his chest.  
  
"I'm going to have to shut you down, Rodney--"  
  
Rodney's mouth dropped open for a moment, and then he was off. "What? Are you insane? Our test flight went off without a hitch; it was great--"  
  
"Rodney! It's not safe."  
  
Rodney's hands made a jittery movement over his temples as if to say _you make my head hurt_ with gesture alone. "Safe? Safe? It's completely safe; the ship responds to me perfectly. She knows what I want almost before I think it; I don't know why you want to pull the plug, when we're _this_ close."  
  
Radek ran shaky hands through his hair, feeling a frown settle over his face. He shared Rodney's frustration. So many hours of work down the drain--his stomach knotted at the thought.  
  
Dr. Weir broke into Rodney's rant. "Do you know why they sunk her? The Ancients? They swept the whole project under the rug. It's why she didn't turn up when we found the _Aurora_. The first pilot went insane, Rodney. The link to the ship--it broke him, broke his sanity. He shot himself."  
  
Rodney went white. "He...what?"  
  
Dr. Weir's face went hard. "He blew his brains out. And Dr. Beckett says you haven't checked in with him once. Not once. What am I supposed to do? Let my chief scientist play Russian roulette with his sanity?"  
  
"Elizabeth, you can't do this. You can't." Rodney's voice held a depth of pleading that Radek had never heard before. "You can't take her away from me! You don't understand. She was so lonely, you don't get it."  
  
Radek put a hand on Rodney's arm. "Rodney," he said in a low voice, but Rodney shook him off.   
  
Dr. Kipketer made a noise and Radek glanced over. She was looking fidgety; she hated fuss, and Rodney's moments of drama had always made her uncomfortable. Radek's eyes darted from hers to glance over to the transporter. At Radek's nod, she melted away, noticed only by Radek and Major Lorne, who nodded at her amiably as she passed.  
  
Dr. Weir sighed. "Your response only reinforces my decision, Rodney. I want you to visit Dr. Beckett. I don't need to have Major Lorne escort you there, do I?" She gestured towards the transporter.  
  
"What, _now_?"   
  
No one did offended outrage like Rodney, Radek thought with an edge of giddy hysteria. It was a crushing blow, all their hard work for nothing, to have the project pulled.   
  
Radek tried to push aside his frustration, tried to think reasonably. Could that first pilot's insanity not have been coincidence? Science was all about untangling coincidence from causality, but Dr. Weir was a diplomat, not a scientist. Thinking on that, Radek frowned, because there seemed very little actual evidence that the ship was affecting Rodney.  
  
Rodney was always mercurial. Since they had found the ship, he had been moody and strange at times, but that wasn't unusual when they were stressed, wasn't unusual for Rodney, period. During the frantic days preparing for the Wraith attack on Atlantis, they'd all gotten far stranger. Radek himself had not been immune: he had found himself completely unable to shower, obsessed that the Wraith would appear the instant the pounding of the water covered the sound of their approach. Stress and lack of sleep did strange things to a man.  
  
Radek realized he was a little offended that Elizabeth would jump so quickly to shut them down rather than advising them to proceed with caution, while incorporating this new knowledge into their testing. That she had approached them with Major Lorne at her back. Her trust in Rodney had been shaken by Arcturus, and apparently that uncertainty extended to the entire science team.   
  
"Dr. Weir, are you sure?" Radek heard himself ask. "We had such a successful test. Rodney seems no less stable than usual, to me at least. Perhaps if Dr. Beckett gives him the okay..." He trailed off at the expression on her face.  
  
She looked at him a moment, then shook her head. "I expected Rodney to want to take risks with this, but not you, Radek."  
  
It was a tiny flinch, but she'd seen it, he realized. Her voice was flat when she said, "Suicide, Dr. Zelenka. It's ugly to think about, but I must. We are shutting the project down; I have no choice. Rodney will go see Dr. Beckett." The last was directed at Rodney. "And, yes, Rodney, right now." Rodney let out a loud, derisive snort, but stormed off when Major Lorne took a deliberate step towards him.   
  
She waited until Rodney was gone, Major Lorne with him, and then turned to Radek. "Dr. Zelenka, can you access the Atlantis computer system, lock this section of the pier down? From everyone, including Rodney."  
  
He stalled, removing his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "It is possible. But, Dr. Weir, I don't..."  
  
A raised hand interrupted him. "I'm not losing anyone else because I can't keep my science staff in check." Her voice was unsteady.  
  
Radek looked at her in surprise. She was blinking rapidly, almost as if holding back tears. He swallowed as realization dawned. She didn't mistrust only the science staff; it seemed she no longer entirely trusted herself.  
  
"Oh, Elizabeth," he said in a soft voice and couldn't stop himself from placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She didn't say anything, just let herself sink into his touch for a long moment.   
  
Taking a deep breath, she finally drew herself upright, and he let his hand drop. Her voice was steady as she said, "Rodney won't like it, I know. And I'll tell him about it myself once he's calmed down a little. I wouldn't ask except for the...uniqueness of the situation." She took a step closer, into his personal space, and her voice was pitched low as she said, "Radek, you heard him. That _ship_ ," she said the word with distaste, "is already affecting him."  
  
He slid his glasses back on, avoiding her eyes. _She is your boss_ , he reminded himself. His confusion was only made more difficult by the instinctive softening he felt at her apparent lingering guilt, at her intimate tone. Her closeness, her voice...her use of his first name had tangled the threads of duty and emotion in ways he hadn't ever expected. He shook himself, trying to think through the fog in his brain. _She may or may not be right about the project, but your feelings are only a distraction here. She is your boss; that's what matters in this._  
  
He drew a breath. "Yes, I will do it." He sounded resigned. That he felt torn, that this felt like he was betraying one loyalty while obeying another, was his own issue to deal with. He shrugged, wishing for once that he wasn't the reasonable member of the science team. Sometimes he too would like to indulge in a tantrum.  
  
But, no, he thought, and sighed, his mind already racing to construct the necessary lines of code to lock down _Pulchra_ 's pier.  
  
*

  
The next few days things were tense between Rodney and Radek, between Rodney and just about everyone, so tense that the Marines gave Rodney an even wider berth than usual in the halls. Radek had coded the lockdown, and Rodney had started a shouting match with him over it within the hour. Nothing had shown up on Dr. Beckett's scans, and Rodney chafed at being kept from the ship.   
  
In the lab, they returned to projects left neglected since they'd found the ship, but Radek found it all a little hollow, since the biggest and most interesting project was sitting out on a locked-down pier.   
  
"We should be working on _Pulchra_ ," Rodney said without preamble. It was the second day back in the labs.   
  
"Rodney, I am sorry," Radek sighed, shoving aside the Ancient circuitry he was soldering.  
  
Rodney had stopped even pretending to type on his laptop, sitting there with a strange look on his face. "She liked having a pilot again. She's lonely, Radek, and she didn't do anything wrong."   
  
Radek froze. He looked over at Rodney finally, shaking his head, eyes wide.   
  
Rodney never talked like that, dreamy and thin, like he was only half in this world. Rodney was solidly, undeniably part of this world. Sometimes annoyingly so, when he took over a whole room with his presence. Perhaps Elizabeth's distrust of the ship was not entirely without merit. He made a note to have a talk with Dr. Beckett the next time he was in medical.

After that, Rodney met his tentative greetings with a cold look and silence. Radek would have almost welcomed a big, Rodney-sized blow-up, the kind that sent Dr. Kipketer fleeing, with the drama and the finger-pointing and the sarcasm. Radek could handle those, ignoring most of it and shooting the worst of it right back at Rodney, until Rodney had it out of his system and everyone could speak reasonably.   
  
Instead, Rodney kept silent and while most of the science staff let out relieved sighs, Radek knew better and waited for the Krakatoa-sized Rodney eruption.   
  
When Sheppard's team on Cletia missed two radio check-ins in a row, Rodney broke his silence, only to snarl randomly at anyone who ventured within striking distance. Radek found himself in Rodney's snarl zone more often then anyone else, but he'd never taken Rodney's verbal jabs too seriously and these seemed half-hearted. There was true desperation taking the edge off Rodney's words. Rodney was off his game: he was very worried about his team.  
  
Radek considered once again how strange it had been to see Rodney connect so thoroughly with his offworld team. The few times Radek had gone off world, he'd felt no great affinity with his military escorts, no desire to stay on a particular team.   
  
Way back when Sheppard had first invited Rodney onto his team, Radek hadn't thought it would last. Radek actually liked Rodney, and the rest of the science team had to put up with their boss, but he'd have thought the military types would have little patience with Rodney's dramatics. Sheppard had welcomed his pet geek with open arms, though, his entire team had. Rodney had fit there somehow, more comfortable with every trip off world, bonding with the people who walked with him through the gate. Not knowing what was wrong on Cletia was making Rodney tense and jumpy. It had everyone tense and jumpy.  
  
Which was why the unscheduled gate activation alarm had everyone scrambling to the gate room at a run. The IDC was for Colonel Sheppard's team, and Rodney went still, tense at his console on hearing this.  
  
The watery blue light exploded into the room, and then Sheppard came through the gate in his most glacially military mode, eyes narrow, the only other sign of his distress a twitch at the corner of his mouth.  
  
Sheppard didn't stop moving once he'd stepped away from the gate. "Let's go, let's go." Teyla and Ronon followed on his heels, edgy and dangerous with the grace of stalking cats. Radek felt his stomach clench; this looked bad.  
  
"Colonel Sheppard, what's wrong?" Dr. Weir was standing behind Radek, her fingers clenched on the back of his chair.   
  
Sheppard ignored her, staring about him with hooded eyes. "What's the status on the _Daedalus_?" The question was curt.  
  
"A few days out. Colonel Sheppard, report." It was her command voice, but Sheppard seemed oblivious.  
  
"Damn it, I was afraid of that." Sheppard tugged at the straps of his pack, settling it to a more comfortable spot, and stalked off.   
  
Radek glanced nervously at Dr. Weir, who closed her eyes for a moment, then spoke to Sheppard's departing back. "Colonel Sheppard, perhaps we should all gather in the briefing room, so that we might figure out what's going on." Sheppard didn't answer her and continued towards the door. "Colonel Sheppard." She let her cool front slip a little, an angry frown crossing her face as she followed him. Everyone else trailed after them like a dust trail following the heart of a comet.  
  
"What the hell happened, Teyla?" Rodney finally asked.  
  
She darted a glance up at Sheppard's back and then looked over at Ronon. Radek got the impression that a whole nonverbal conversation passed between them with just a look. Ronon shrugged, and Teyla said, "The Wraith are aware of Cletia now. A hive ship is traveling there as we speak."  
  
"The Amazon planet? How did that happen?" Rodney asked over Radek's muttered Czech.   
  
Teyla said nothing, just nodded her head towards Sheppard.   
  
Rodney raised his voice. "Sheppard, what happened?"  
  
Dr. Weir's shoulders were held stiffly, her back tense. Radek thought she was angrier than he'd ever seen her, but her voice was unnaturally calm when she said, "My question exactly."  
  
Sheppard stopped and turned to face Rodney. "My fault," he said, voice tight. "It was my fault. I triggered another one of those damn Wraith beacons--like Teyla's necklace, remember? I can't believe what an idiot... This damn gene, god damn it." He swung around and slapped the transporter's control panel, the explosive noise making Radek start.  
  
Teyla's murmured, "You could not know," went unnoticed by Sheppard.   
  
Dr. Weir seized Sheppard's elbow before he could enter the transporter. "I'll ask this only once, John. Where are you going?"  
  
Sheppard shook off her hand and crossed his arms, posture defiant. "Puddle jumper bay--"  
  
Rodney interrupted, stepping closer to poke Sheppard in the chest with an energetic finger. "Oh, do not tell me that, Sheppard. Don't even go there. You couldn't manage to get yourself killed the first time, so you're going to try again?"  
  
"Rodney, hush," Dr. Weir said in that same curiously calm voice. "John, you will _not_ take off in a jumper, half-cocked. We need to come to a consensus on this; we have to make a plan. The _Daedalus_ is only a few days out--can't we wait for it?"  
  
Sheppard gave her an incredulous look. "We don't have time, Elizabeth."  
  
"We don't know that," she shot back. "The _Daedalus_ may well get here earlier; they've been making improvements to the hyperdrive all the time."  
  
A very valid point, Radek mused. Sheppard must have been thinking the same thing: a thoughtful look crossed his face, and Elizabeth pressed her advantage. "And we should let our science people get a handle on this, too. They might figure out a way to deal with that hive ship without getting you killed." Her voice was low, but determined. "I'll get a security team here to stop you, if I need to."   
  
Rodney spoke. "We'll come up with something, I promise. But not if you go off with a bug up your ass the instant our backs are turned."   
  
Sheppard frowned, and Rodney reached out to him, but aborted the gesture at a sharp glance from Sheppard. An odd look crossed Rodney's face, exasperated and vulnerable at the same time. "John, please. Radek and I have been running simulations on hive ship vulnerabilities. And we still have the _Pulchra_ \--"  
  
Dr. Weir cut him off. "No, Rodney. Absolutely not."  
  
Radek shook his head. "We'd only just started testing, Rodney. The hyperdrive was still iffy, and--"   
  
"That's all beside the point," Dr. Weir said firmly. "We can't risk using her. End of story."  
  
Sheppard and Rodney were muttering at each other. Radek only caught part of it, Rodney saying, "--tell you later," accompanied by a shushing gesture.   
  
A long moment of silence passed, and then Sheppard grunted. "Fine. Have it your way. "  
  
Dr. Weir straightened and took a deep breath. "Very good, Colonel." She looked around, taking them all in. "Evening briefing, then. I'll get the comm techs scanning for the _Daedalus_ , so we'll know the instant it's arrived. The science team will present their ideas, and we'll come up with a plan."  
  
*  
  
It was an hour before the briefing, and Rodney blew into the lab while Radek was trying to coax a stubborn simulation to spit out its results. Radek wanted to include the results for this one last simulation run in his presentation material for the briefing, but the laptop wasn't cooperating.   
  
"Radek."  
  
He raised a hand at Rodney, cursing under his breath: the output file was _still_ corrupted.  
  
"Radek!"   
  
His typing was halted abruptly when Rodney slammed the laptop shut, nearly catching Radek's fingers with the lid.  
  
He let out a startled yelp. "Rodney, idiot!"  
  
Rodney snapped his fingers under Radek's nose. It was a very unattractive habit of Rodney's that never failed to make Radek want to snap his teeth at the offending hand. He'd managed to restrain himself so far, but even he had limits. At least it seemed Rodney was back to normal.  
  
Rodney was saying, "You have to lift the security codes on the pier. It's taking me too long to crack them."  
  
"Break my fingers, why don't you," Radek said, wiggling his fingers at Rodney. Then he finally took in what Rodney had said and sputtered. "And you _wish_ you could crack my..."   
  
Rodney cut him off, "Radek, it's important. I have to get to _Pulchra_ before John does. The lockdown codes won't matter for him; he'll get Atlantis to open for him like the overly-doting, near-stalker of a city that she is."  
  
Blinking at that description--was that jealousy? and of _Atlantis_?--Radek shook himself. He flexed his hands, trying to ease the ache of too much computer work, and then asked in a resigned tone, "Sheppard wishes to take _Pulchra_ to fight the hive ship, correct?"  
  
Rodney shook his head, a disgusted frown on his face. "Got it in one. And I know she'll fly for him; he's already gotten close enough to 'hear' her. I was right there with him when it happened. No one else but me has been able to do that. I've tried to talk him out of it. But he..." Rodney trailed off, jaw muscles working. "Anyway, he can't fly her if I take her out first."  
  
The breath left Radek's lungs in a rush. "Rodney, that is crazy." He sounded a little strangled. "Go to the ship to stop him, yes. Taking the ship yourself? Not smart."  
  
"No, no, no, it's crazy, I agree, but I won't be able to stop him. We know each other too well. He'll know how to get around me, which buttons to push. He'll take her and save the Cletians, or die trying. He thinks it's his fault, big surprise," Rodney said, the catch in his voice belying the almost conversational tone. "He thinks everything is his fault. But this time, I'm not letting him. He's not going to go get himself killed trying to save people from the Wraith."   
  
Rodney swallowed, hard, and took a breath. "I am."   
  
"Rodney," Radek said, a little helplessly, but didn't know what else to say after that. Rodney was wringing his hands in a way Radek hadn't seen in a while, the way he used to do when he was really upset. And, yes, Rodney still got upset, but not as before, not like this. Radek had gotten used to the centered Rodney, the Rodney who'd seen all the strangeness of the Pegasus galaxy and had found some inner strength to deal with it all.   
  
Rodney interrupted his thoughts. "Every day, I see people risking themselves. Like fucking Griffin, dying for me." He shook his head. "Maybe it's my turn."  
  
"I don't..." Radek trailed off. Rodney had come back from the crashed jumper a little different, grounded somehow with yet more of that strength that Radek himself found elusive. He thought about how frightening it had been, how difficult he had found it accompanying Sheppard on the undersea mission. He'd hesitated, even knowing that Rodney was on a sinking puddle jumper that should have been transporting Radek himself. He'd asked for Rodney's help then, out his fear of flying, out of fear in general, and Rodney had come through for him. He wondered if Rodney's sudden willingness to play the crazy hero was a part of that strength. If so, he wasn't entirely sure if he liked the results.  
  
Rodney stopped fidgeting, and Radek's gaze moved from Rodney's hands to his face, which was serious and determined and pleading all at the same time. Rodney reached out and grabbed Radek's hand in a hard grip.   
  
Radek didn't pull away, just stared at their clasped hands in bemusement. Rodney wasn't someone who invited or initiated touch; Radek found this sudden contact confusing, to say the least.  
  
"Rodney?" he asked in a cautious voice.  
  
"Radek, I'm asking as a friend. I wouldn't do this if there were any other way, I promise. I'm asking you to trust me." Rodney's voice was shaking. "Please, Radek. I'll beg if I have to. If you've ever counted me as a friend--"  
  
Radek pulled his hand from Rodney's grip, but it was to gather up his laptop with a resigned shake of his head. He spoke just as Rodney's frown was little more than a lopsided twist of his lips. "No begging, please, Rodney." He felt a small smile steal across his face. "It does not suit you."   
  
He looked at Rodney's suddenly hopeful face. "Do not act so surprised; it is insulting. You _are_ my friend. I do trust you. This is obviously important to you, this crazy plan that will get you killed, probably. Are you prepared to die, Rodney?" He paused to see if his words had had any effect, but Rodney only shook his head.   
  
"John's always been ready to die for us. I figure it's my turn now." Rodney's voice was determined, only cracking a little.  
  
Radek swallowed, then jerked his head toward the door. "Let's go then, my friend. You have a ship to catch."  
  
*  
  
Watching _Pulchra_ take off was the hardest thing Radek had ever done. In the end, Radek had offered to accompany Rodney on his crazy mission. Rodney had turned him down, and Radek had felt relieved. He thought he should feel at least a little ashamed of his cowardice, but the relief was so broad and encompassing that there was room for little else.  
  
Tucking his laptop under an arm, Radek stood facing the empty pier. "Elizabeth is going to kill me when she finds out about this," he muttered.   
  
"Zelenka."  
  
Radek turned to see Colonel Sheppard bearing down on him. Perhaps Elizabeth would have to stand in line, because Sheppard looked thunderous, his eyes scarily empty, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Sheppard's laid-back, easy manner, which Radek had long ago realized was something of a front, usually hid this part of him, this cold and dangerous man.   
  
"You let him take off? Alone?" Radek nodded, closing his eyes. He remained silent; at this moment, he doubted Sheppard would care about anything he had to say.  
  
Radek's eyes flew back open as hands like iron gripped his throat, the grip lifting him to his toes. He heard the laptop hit the deck, and any other time he'd have winced at the sound, but he had more important things to worry about right now. Radek's fingers scrabbled to no effect at Sheppard's wrists; he'd never considered himself a weakling, but Sheppard seemed preternaturally strong.  
  
"Are you out of your fucking mind?" The words were gritted out through clenched teeth, and the expression on Sheppard's face was one Radek associated with Wraith attacks and Genii invasions. A surge of panic combined with lack of air made his ears ring.  
  
"Colonel, please," he tried to say, but could only manage a choked whisper.   
  
Sheppard's grip eased up enough that Radek was no longer up on his toes and could catch a breath. "Talk to me, Zelenka." Radek swallowed at the expression in Sheppard's eyes, but then his fear was burned away by anger.  
  
"Do you think I wish to send Rodney off on what is very probably a suicide mission?" His voice was tight, his anger directed at Sheppard and at Rodney for forcing him into this impossible situation. "Colonel Sheppard, Rodney asked me for this. He did it for you, you know. He told me you were going to take the ship to Cletia. He begged me to help him go instead. I did it as a friend. Rodney is my friend. You should know what that means; he is yours as well."  
  
Sheppard's face twitched to one side in the tiniest movement of negation, his mouth a grim line. Radek blinked in confusion; what was Sheppard denying...the thought of Rodney risking his life in place of Sheppard's? Denying that Rodney was a friend? And if that were true, why was Sheppard acting this irrationally, like a man driven to the edge? Why did he have the gutted look of someone who's lost a child or a wife? Radek knew that look only too well; he'd seen it often enough in the mirror over the years.  
  
It was the eyes that told the story, bleak and stunned, as if you'd lost part of yourself. Shepppard had those eyes. And the answer was there suddenly, the neural leap of a proof, the sudden emergence of a stable solution from a cusp geometry.   
  
_They're lovers_ , Radek thought suddenly, eyes growing very wide. All the clues he'd missed--obvious, so obvious now--but Radek knew himself for what he was, or at least what he had been for so long after Elena, more interested in the mysteries of forces and fields and beautiful equations than in the mysteries of human attraction. All the aborted touches and suppressed emotion between Rodney and Sheppard suddenly made sense. Rodney's crazy heroism didn't seem quite so crazy, and Radek's throat tightened even more at the thought. Colonel Sheppard and Rodney...not friends, more than friends. Lovers.  
  
"Oh," he breathed. Something must have shown on his face, because Sheppard took a step back, his hands dropping from Radek's throat. Radek reached up gingerly to assess the damage. Bruises, definitely, but he'd had worse. He'd live.   
  
He looked over to see Sheppard standing with slumped shoulders, head down. Radek reached out a tentative hand to clasp Sheppard's shoulder. "I did not know. I am sorry."  
  
Sheppard allowed the touch for a moment then shook him off. "Yeah, well..." The words sounded thick, and Sheppard's eyes avoided Radek's.   
  
Radek could tell when Sheppard got himself under control: the cool military mask fell back in place, eyes hard. Suddenly decisive, Sheppard swung around, heading for the transporter. "I'm following him in the puddle jumper. He's got no one to watch his back out there."   
  
The shame Radek had been too relieved to feel earlier flooded him now, and he knew what he had to do. He scooped up his laptop and caught up to Sheppard at the transporter. " _We_ follow him in puddle jumper, yes? You'll need someone at _your_ back. Almost like old times, our going after Rodney."   
  
Sheppard looked at him, brow raised. His gaze was critical, and Radek tried to project cool competence. He pulled it off every day in the lab without a thought; he could damn well fake it in the field. He'd be willing to bet faking it was how Rodney had handled going off world, at first.  
  
He must have succeeded, because Sheppard motioned ahead of him with a sardonic little bow. "After you, Dr. Zelenka."  
  
Radek took a deep breath, suppressing the panicky thought-- _what are you getting yourself into?_ \--and entered the transporter.   
  
If he made it back to Atlantis, Elizabeth really would kill him after this.  
  
*  
  
They didn't entirely escape without Elizabeth noticing, the radio crackling just before Sheppard piloted them through the stargate.  
  
"Gentlemen, I won't ask what you think you're doing. I know I can't stop you now."  
  
Sheppard's expression remained cool as he clicked the button. "No, you can't." He caught Radek's incredulous look and hesitated, a tic working under one eye. His voice had softened somewhat when he transmitted again. "I won't say I'm sorry, Elizabeth."  
  
"Bring back my scientists and I won't ask you to, John."   
  
Sheppard's hands clenched tight on the jumper's controls then relaxed, finger by finger. Radek stared at Sheppard's hands--eyeing the thin scar across a knuckle, contemplating their odd grace manipulating the Ancient machinery--as if he could hold back the conflicted emotions rising within him by concentration alone. Torn loyalties, lingering shame, guilt: it all churned his stomach, added to the tangle of warmth and wariness that Elizabeth's voice roused within him.  
  
"Radek." Her voice was clipped. That one word held so many things, something fierce, something almost like anger, things Radek didn't even know how to categorize. After Elizabeth said his name, there was a long pause. Radek tensed, waiting for the blow to fall. Instead, Elizabeth's voice was soft, intimate when she spoke next. "Radek, be careful."  
  
Radek blindly clutched at the radio, fumbling for the button. "Elizabeth, I am sorry. But I could see no other way."   
  
He took a deep breath and clicked over to a private channel. "This may not be the best way or time to say this, but I..." He swallowed. "I have great admiration...and affection for you, Elizabeth. If we weren't--I wish we'd had more. I wish I'd said something before..." Conscious of Sheppard's gaze, he quickly became incoherent and felt himself flushing.  
  
She took pity on him. "I know." A beat of silence, and then she spoke again. "The feeling is...mutual. Please know that." She cleared her throat, her voice catching when she continued, "Come back, Radek. Come back, and we'll talk."   
  
She sounded so stiff and awkward--they both had. He'd never been good at declarations, and it made him feel a little like weeping to think about speaking up now, too little and too late if they didn't actually make it back. He'd let so many opportunities slip past. They'd both known what was growing between them, but they had hesitated to say anything, out of mutual shyness, out of fear of risking their friendship.   
  
After Elena, Radek realized he had hesitated to love again, knowing that the flip side to the wonderful brightness of the emotion could be pain that gutted you. But he wanted it, wanted Elizabeth, and was willing to take that risk again. Now he just had to make sure they made it back alive and safe so that he could do just that.  
  
Before he could respond, she continued, her tone brisk again. "Colonel Sheppard, I'm counting on you to bring everyone back home safely."  
  
Sheppard didn't take his eyes from Radek's as he responded. "Yes, m'am."  
  
Radek closed his eyes when the puddle jumper dove through the gate. He still wasn't entirely sanguine about gate travel. That elongated feeling of utter wrongness threatened to overwhelm him every time, and he always ended up with a churning, queasy stomach.  
  
"Oh, man."  
  
Radek opened his eyes. They had a ringside seat high above Cletia, the sleek lines of _Pulchra_ deadly yet fragile, silhouetted against the hive ship. They were a little late to the party, the battle already engaged.  
  
Rodney seemed to be holding his own so far, the drone-fighters deployed in an angry array surrounding _Pulchra_. Even as they watched, a drone-fighter took out a Wraith dart in a fiery blast, and Radek felt like cheering as it laid heavy blaster fire into the hive ship's hull.   
  
But while the drone fighters that made it through the defensive line of Wraith darts were doing serious damage to the hive ship, fighter after fighter went up in a brilliant and silent explosion, victim of the fast and maneuverable darts. It was a race between Rodney's dwindling supply of drone-fighters and the Wraith ships. Radek feared he knew who'd win in the end.  
  
"We must help him," Radek said breathlessly, squashing his fear deep down inside him. A rage was rising within him, something that felt strange and new. He'd never felt its like before, this thrumming need to do something-- _help Rodney_ \--and it almost frightened him, the strength of his own reaction. It was a rush, powerful and freeing, and he wondered if this was what Sheppard felt every time he did something suicidal and brave.  
  
"I'm trying. Fuck." Sheppard fought the controls of the puddle jumper, his face a picture of fierce concentration. "What the hell is wrong with this ship?"   
  
Radek frantically scanned the scrolling type on the heads-up display and gasped when he finally deciphered the diagnostics. "Colonel Sheppard, _Pulchra_ has networked with our puddle jumper. She's pulling on our computing resources to help direct the drone-fighters. She's controlling us, and Rodney's controlling her."  
  
"Rodney, stop it." The utter desperation in Sheppard's voice made Radek fumble as he pulled out his laptop. His hands shook as he connected it to the puddle jumper's computer and accessed the Ancient interface. Layers, so many layers--the Ancient computers were organized to be intuitive to Ancients, not frantic humans. On a good day, it was an exercise in patience; right now, it felt like a numerical Gordian knot with no sword in sight.  
  
"You can fix it?"  
  
"I can try," Radek said grimly. He glanced up to see that while the hive ship looked battered, listing to one side, Rodney's drone-fighters were drastically depleted. They now formed less of an array and more of a thin line of defense, and _Pulchra_ 's hull was blackened and scored now. He kept his head down after that, typing frantically.  
  
"Now would be nice, Zelenka," Sheppard said in a tight voice.  
  
"Still working on it," Radek snapped back at him, then repeated it in English when he realized he'd responded in Czech.  
  
Cutting through Radek's mental focus was the sense of Sheppard beside him practically quivering with the need to help. Even for Radek, who generally erred on the cerebral side of things, the drive to _do something_ was nearly intolerable, distracting him. It only fed into the utter frustration of being kept away, being kept safe, while Rodney was out there by himself, risking everything with no one to help him but a ten-thousand-year-old sentient ship.   
  
Radek worked on, but the futility of it was becoming hard to deny, _Pulchra_ 's hold on the puddle jumper unbreakable. It was like trying to hold back the tide; the Ancient network healed itself faster than Radek could sever the connections. Radek had known that it was useless nearly from the beginning, but he'd refused to admit it even to himself.   
  
" _Rodney_."  
  
Radek looked up and gasped. The drone-fighters were all gone; _Pulchra_ stood against the hive ship all on her own. A number of Wraith darts were still harrying the ship and the ship's port hull rocked with an explosion as they watched.  
  
"It's over, Rodney," Radek muttered. "Get out, please, get out."   
  
Instead of retreating, _Pulchra_ advanced, moving towards the hive ship. She was accelerating, deliberate in her aim--was Rodney going to _ram_ the hive ship?  
  
They watched in silence: the hive ship gave a twitch, as if attempting futile evasive maneuvers, _Pulchra_ gaining speed, her shape merging with that of the hive ship as she accelerated, faster and faster.  
  
As a boy riding in the back of his parents' Skoda, he'd once witnessed a horrific wreck. A car had collided with a fuel truck, and, "Don't look, Radek," his mother had gasped, but he had looked, couldn't make himself look away. Flames had engulfed the car almost instantly, he remembered. He'd been fascinated by physics even then, and a small part of his brain had raced to calculate the tremendous energy of the gas explosion, joules per cubic meter multiplied by _this_ volume, the numbers clicking in his head. He'd been a little horrified at that part of himself, that could see a horrible wreck as a scientific experiment, while the rest of his brain had just shut down in a numb shock. Nobody in the crash could possibly have survived, and that one number, _zero_ survivors, loomed over everything, made his calculations meaningless.   
  
It felt like that now: Radek wanted to look away, but couldn't, his gaze locked on the scene playing out in front of the jumper. The collision seemed to take place in slow motion. Eerily beautiful, the explosions made streaks of oranges and reds, and the silence of it pressed down on Radek, made it hurt to think or even breathe. He watched, tense and gripping the arms of his chair so tightly his hands hurt. It felt unreal, his tongue filling his throat so that he felt like choking. Small explosions merged together, larger and larger, until it filled the screen of the puddle jumper. Then, with a twisting of reality, rainbow light coruscating across both ships, there was suddenly--nothing.   
  
Radek blinked, but the view outside the jumper remained unchanged. No more explosions, no remains of either ship, even skeletal and blasted ones.  
  
Radek's attention was caught by a choked-off sound from Sheppard, eyes dark and wide in a white face. The shuddery breath of Sheppard's inhalation was very close to a sob. There was a hollowness filling Radek, but he knew it couldn't compare with what Sheppard had to be experiencing. He was reaching out to touch Sheppard's shoulder, to offer reassurance, when something on the heads-up display caught his eye.  
  
He took a breath, trying to think over the noisy static in his head. The events he'd just witnessed played and replayed through his head-- _explosions, darts, Rodney, my god, he cannot be dead_ \-- but he had to push all that aside.  
  
The diagnostics were trying to tell him something, Radek knew. He just had to find it, push through the grief that threatened to overwhelm him. He had to think clearly enough to decipher what it meant. He typed furiously, querying the puddle jumper's computer. A few minutes passed, Radek typing and glancing over at Sheppard's bent head with concern. Finally, _there_ , he had the answer, and there was hope, after all.  
  
"Sheppard, look at me." Sheppard sat there, unresponsive. "Sheppard." Radek reached over and had to shake Sheppard's shoulder to get his attention. "Listen to me, Colonel. Rodney may still be alive. He engaged _Pulchra_ 's hyperdrive immediately after the collision. The hive ship was trapped in the hyperdrive field; that's why they disappeared together. Ingenious, really. The hive ship was damaged, and it was not designed for _Pulchra_ 's jump field. It was probably destroyed."  
  
"And Rodney?" Sheppard blinked, sounding numb. "Destroyed with it?" The expression that crossed Sheppard's face at that held fear and anger and all sorts of emotions that made Radek flinch. It reminded him of things better left in the past. Grief like lead, the cloying smell of lilies, and waking to darkness, reaching out for Elena's warmth and finding only cold sheets, and he was _not_ going to let those memories pull him under.   
  
Shaking his head, Radek hurried to reassure Sheppard. "Not likely. _Pulchra_ was damaged, but her structural integrity should not have been that compromised." Radek wasn't quite as sure of it as he made it sound to Sheppard, but he wasn't going to kill their only hope. "My guess is _Pulchra_ survived the jump."  
  
Sheppard looked at him, tentative hope lifting some of the deadness from his expression. "Jump to where? They could be anywhere."   
  
Radek shook his head. "No, Colonel, not anywhere. Here." He tapped the screen of his laptop, where coordinates were displayed. " _Pulchra_ was networked with the puddle jumper when she did the jump calculations. That, combined with the telemetry we gathered on the ship before she jumped, gives us the answer. Rodney's here. And here" --another tap on the screen-- "is the nearest stargate."  
  
Sheppard straightened from where he'd slumped in the pilot's seat, hands grasping the jumper's controls with a newly determined air.  
  
"Let's go."  
  
*  
  
The stargate spit them out a short ride from _Pulchra_ 's coordinates. There was no sign of the hive ship, and Radek let out a shaky breath in relief. His theory that the hive ship could not survive the hyperspace jump had been made quickly, without any hard evidence. He'd feared his own desperate hope was tainting his objectivity, his desire to see Rodney again, safe and sound, steering him towards wishful thinking rather than logic. But it appeared not, and with the hive ship out of the way, Rodney's chances of survival--and their own--had gotten much, much better.   
  
Sheppard eased the puddle jumper closer in to dock with the ship. Radek swallowed hard as he got a sobering look at the damage. She had truly been what her name implied, a beautiful ship, graceful and deadly. Now, she was crippled, blasted and scorched. She hung motionless in front of them, hull punctured in places by what looked like debris from the hive ship.   
  
"A Wraith suicide attack?" Radek pointed out the barely recognizable back section of a Wraith dart. It protruded from one section of _Pulchra_ 's hull, still venting gases and sparks. Sheppard somehow managed to shrug with just a lift of an eyebrow, his attention not wavering from his piloting.  
  
Radek checked the heads-up display and glanced nervously over at Sheppard. "Colonel, we're picking up a life sign."  
  
Sheppard gave him a bare nod, his face a mask as he maneuvered the puddle jumper around debris and blown-out hull. Radek jumped in his seat as something banged into the jumper, then there was a long, high squeal, which he assumed was torn metal scraping the hull. Sheppard didn't react at all, steering them through the wreckage with a frown. The damage they were seeing now was so extensive that Radek wondered if they'd be able to dock, although one look at Sheppard's grim, determined face told him that Sheppard would manage it no matter what.   
  
Radek wondered in what state they'd find Rodney when they did and glanced at display. "She's losing life support. We need to hurry."  
  
"I'm on it," Sheppard snapped. The jumper shifted as it settled onto deck, and Sheppard triggered the hatch. "Atmospheric shielding is still holding up here."   
  
They headed for the bridge, Radek struggling to keep up with Sheppard's long legs. The damage was extensive, lights flickering, whole corridors sealed off. They had to detour around these damaged sections of the ship, which _Pulchra_ had apparently sealed off to maintain the atmosphere as long as possible.  
  
They reached the bridge and Sheppard let out a choked sound, rushing to Rodney's slumped form. "Rodney, talk to me. C'mon, talk to me."  
  
Rodney seemed aware, if not entirely coherent. A cut across his forehead explained some of his confusion. Sheppard propped him up with an arm around his shoulders. "Rodney, I'm here. We're here. Can you stand?"  
  
"John?" Rodney looked over at Radek, then up at Sheppard. He shook his head and took in a ragged breath that turned into a cough. "I...don't think so." He closed his eyes with a grimace. "She's dying. It hurts, John."  
  
Something flickered across Sheppard's face. "I know, Rodney. I feel it, too, a little." He slung one of Rodney's arms over his shoulders. Radek moved to take Rodney's other arm, and they started maneuvering Rodney up and out of the bridge.  
  
"She did it, though," Rodney slurred. "She took out the hive ship. Did you see?"  
  
"Yeah, I saw," Sheppard said quietly.   
  
"It was brilliant, Rodney," Radek offered. "You scared us half to death, but it was brilliant."  
  
Rodney blinked at him with a frown. "Radek. How did you get here?"  
  
"Shh," Radek soothed. "We have the puddle jumper. We're taking you home."  
  
"Oh," Rodney said. Then he tried to pull his arms from their grasp. "No, I need to stay with her. She shouldn't have to die alone."  
  
Radek took a shaky breath and secured Rodney's arm over his shoulders. "No, she should not, Rodney. But we will all die if we stay here. You know the Colonel won't leave without you."  
  
Rodney let himself be pulled to the door. "John can be such an asshole. I'm in love with an asshole--shit, I said that out loud. I'm not supposed to say that. Sorry, John, can't think right now. She hurts too much."  
  
"It's okay, Rodney." Sheppard's voice held a warmth that Radek had often heard him use with Rodney, the teasing affection of friends, he'd always thought. "Zelenka knows."  
  
"We need to hurry," Radek warned. "Life support is failing."  
  
They pulled Rodney along, heading back towards the puddle jumper. Signs of the ship's eminent demise were all around them: most of the lights were dead, and the air was starting to go bad, heavy with an electrical ozone smell. They came to an intersection, one corridor leading off to a sealed-off section of the ship.  
  
"Almost there," Radek was saying, when everything happened at once.   
  
A lurching form darted out from the intersecting corridor. It was on Radek before he could blink. A horribly wasted, gray face was suddenly right in front of him, the reek of carrion invading his nose. A sudden hard pressure across his shoulder and ribs quickly turned to fire, and Radek let out a yell. Rodney was pulled away from him an instant before he fell, and then there was a flurry of gunshots. The Wraith's palm pressed into Radek's chest, and he couldn't stop the horrified shriek that came out.  
  
The outstretched hand dropped from his chest, the Wraith's body slumping to the deck beside him. Radek lay there, frozen, and then Sheppard was on him, pulling frantically at his jacket and shirt, exposing his chest.  
  
"Shut up, Zelenka. I can't speak Czech," Sheppard said, and Radek realized he'd been babbling.  
  
"You're fine." Sheppard touched his chest where the Wraith had touched him, and Radek shuddered. His legs shook so badly he almost fell the first time he tried to stand up. He was breathing fast, too quickly. He was light-headed, noted the small part of his brain that was still working.   
  
"He's hyperventilating," he heard Rodney say. Sheppard grabbed his arm to steady him. The grip was tight, so tight it hurt, but it helped Radek focus a little. Sheppard shook him. "Look at me, Zelenka. Radek. _Radek_ ," he said, until Radek met his eyes. And then, "Radek, you're okay. It got you with its claws, but that's it. There's no mark, so it didn't start to drain you. It must've been half-dead to begin with. Now help me with Rodney."  
  
Radek obediently leaned over to help Rodney up again, wincing when the movement pulled at the claw marks on his shoulder and side   
  
"That's good, Radek. You're fine," Sheppard said.  
  
They lifted Rodney between them and eased around the Wraith's body.   
  
"The dart that crashed into the hull. That's the pilot," Radek gasped. "I can't believe it survived the crash."  
  
"Oh, believe it," Rodney said, but there was more pain than sarcasm in his voice.   
  
"Damn things just won't fucking die," Sheppard snarled as they lurched their way back to the jumper. Rodney and Radek were walking wounded, Rodney dragging himself along, and Radek's blood getting all over both of them.  
  
They staggered into the puddle jumper and eased Rodney onto one of the benches. Sheppard went up to the pilot seat, and Radek slid down to his knees on the floor beside Rodney, weak and dizzy. He reached up to touch the oozing wetness that continued to stain his shirt, and suddenly he was retching.   
  
"Jeez, Radek, if you puke, you'll make me puke, too," Rodney said.   
  
His stomach was empty; it was mostly dry heaves. His face was damp and hot when he was finally able to look up. He pulled himself up onto the bench beside Rodney. "Sorry," he said, wiping his mouth.  
  
"'S okay," Rodney said, eyes closed, a grimace crossing his face. "You should've seen me yacking after _my_ first close call off world."  
  
"How--" Radek swallowed. "How do you stand it?"   
  
Rodney opened his eyes, and there was sympathy there. Sympathy, and hard-won knowledge, and a weary sort of acceptance--all sorts of things he'd never before thought to associate with his friend, his fellow geek. "You get used to it."  
  
Sheppard looked back from the pilot seat. "We're away," he called back into the rear compartment.  
  
"Oh, thank God," Radek said.  
  
Rodney nodded, a distracted look on his face, but he didn't look entirely happy. He looked over at Radek.  
  
"I can't feel her anymore," he whispered, and there was guilt and sadness in his face.  
  
Radek swallowed, his throat tight. "She did the job she was designed to do, Rodney. We're alive, and you took out the hive ship. That's all that matters. You didn't let anyone down, not the Cletians, not your Colonel."  
  
Rodney was quiet for a long stretch. "No. But it feels like I left someone behind."  
  
Radek opened his mouth and then closed it. There was nothing he could say that could change things, so he just reached over and put a hand on Rodney's shoulder. He left it there for the trip, squeezing hard as they went through the stargate, and didn't move it until they had landed back in Atlantis and had medical teams swarming over the both of them.  
  
He lost time then, not sure how he got from the jumper onto a stretcher. He was being jostled through Atlantis' corridors, the cool blues and grays of Atlantis soothing him. Home, it said. Safe.  
  
Time stuttered again; there were only flashes of awareness. Disconnected scenes, Sheppard shouting, Carson soothing. Elizabeth saying his name, tears unnoticed running down her cheeks, her lips brushing his. The face of a nurse, the sting of a needle. Then all was darkness.  
  
*  
  
Radek heard Rodney, very close by. Carson must have placed Rodney next to him. Radek let Rodney's voice wash over and through him. He felt tired and detached, and had no desire to rejoin the land of the living just yet. Then something caught his attention: Rodney's voice had deepened. There was enormous longing in Rodney's tone, an edge of sadness. He was mumbling something Radek couldn't quite make out, except that he thought he caught the word 'sorry' and felt his stomach clench. If the fate of the ship was still tormenting Rodney, he probably wanted to talk to someone, needed distraction. Radek needed to wake up.  
  
But he'd just managed to pry his eyes open when Rodney spoke again.  
  
"John, I'm sorry. Love you," Rodney was saying, the words filled with so much heat and meaning that Radek felt like a voyeur just hearing it. Sheppard was sitting next to Rodney's bed, resting his head on the sheets. Rodney was running a hand through Sheppard's hair, making it even more tousled than normal.  
  
Radek relaxed. Rodney was getting what he needed; Radek could sleep. He let the darkness claim him again, a smile on his lips.  
  
The next morning, Sheppard was gone. Rodney was asleep in the bed next to his, and Elizabeth was there, a shy but sincere smile on her face, clasping his hand in hers when he moved it towards hers.   
  
She looked at their joined hands. "I'd say 'don't ever do that again,' but I don't know that I have the right to ask that. Here on Atlantis, we never really know what we'll end up having to do, do we? What we'll have to be."  
  
Radek nodded. "I am sorry. The ship was Cletia's only hope. But you were right about the ship harming Rodney. If he had flown her for very long...I don't know what might have happened. As it was, she changed him. He wanted to stay with her out there, you know."  
  
Her mouth turned down, but she was nodding. "Yes, Colonel Sheppard told us. Dr. Heightmeyer is going to be extra busy after this."   
  
She looked down, shaking her head. "I was right, but I was wrong, too. The ship _was_ dangerous. But out here, everything is. When you balance that risk with saving a planet...Rodney was right."  
  
She was quiet for a moment, gently running her thumb over his fingers.  
  
"After Arcturus, I got very focused on keeping everyone safe. I hate to see my people risk so much, trying to be heroes. But it's not heroics. You're all just doing what needs to be done. No more, no less."  
  
Radek squeezed her hand. "We could leave if we wanted. Any of us. We choose to stay. We accept the risks," he said. "You can't keep everyone safe all the time."  
  
"No," she said. "As much as I might want to." She smiled at him. "Even my scientists are going on dramatic rescue missions. Saving the day with more than just their brains. Atlantis is changing us all."  
  
She cleared her throat, then gestured at his bandages. "Carson thinks you'll be good as new in no time. There will be scarring, though," she said cautiously, her eyes troubled.  
  
He shrugged, then winced at the flaring pain of it. "I don't mind." He looked down. "Not if you don't."  
  
"Don't be stupid," she said fondly and leaned over him, lips hovering just above his. Her eyes sought his, and his face creased with a smile.  
  
"You know, some changes are good changes," she said. The tip of her tongue ran over her bottom lip nervously.  
  
"Oh, yes," he agreed, and then her mouth was on his, warm and wet and perfect.  
  
*  
  
Radek woke to darkness, and sat up with a sigh. Still half-asleep, confused, he was aware enough to realize that it had been the dream again. The dream of Elena. Of laughter and warm skin against his, and the slide into welcoming heat. The dream that had tempted and tormented him for eight long years, heaven and hell combined. Heaven, because within the dream, his wife was beside him again, could wrap her arms around him and pull him to her. She was alive again, saying his name in that amused way of hers, if only for a while. But Hell, because the dream always ended. He always awoke to loneliness and an ache that refused to go away and cold sheets.  
  
He reached out. Best to get it over with, come to reality yet again. He reached out--and touched a warm body beside him. He came awake fully then, but there was no ache, no loneliness. He'd awoken to the calm sound of breathing, to warmth beside him, to a lover who was no dream.   
  
Elizabeth sighed in her sleep, and turned toward him. "Radek," she murmured. He looked down at her. A lock of hair had fallen across her face, and he reached out and gently tucked it behind her ear. It was all welling up within him, protectiveness, joy, love. He was smiling and felt like weeping at the same time.   
  
"Elizabeth," he whispered and settled down close to her, wrapped an arm around her. Her hair was in his face; he could smell the floral scent of her shampoo. "Elizabeth," he said again, just to say her name. Tucking his face into the gentle curve of her neck, he breathed in her scent and let himself drift back into sleep. There were no more dreams.


End file.
